


Come With Me (the Time is Right)

by Solarcat



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, Blood and Injury, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Frottage, Licking, Link is a gremlin, M/M, Pokephilia, Sidon loves him, more worldbuilding than you might expect given the summary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22425481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solarcat/pseuds/Solarcat
Summary: Link likes the Wilds. His favorite part of the Gym Challenge had been camping out with his team, playing and training and gathering berries to make dishes that could loosely be described as “food.” So after everything settled and Team Ganon was done for good (and good riddance), it seemed like a good way to disappear for a while. The Wilds were huge and varied and it would take quite a lot of searching to find one rather small teenager who had both extensive knowledge of the area and a team of clever Pokémon who were all totally devoted to him.He didn’t really mean to still be living out of his tent going on eight years later.A loosely Pokémon Sword/Shield-inspired BotW/Pokémon fusion. Link is a Pokémon Trainer and also a hermit gremlin who lives in the woods. Sidon is his shiny Zora. (They fuck.)
Relationships: Link/Prince Sidon
Comments: 12
Kudos: 224





	Come With Me (the Time is Right)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is the worst idea I've ever had; I hope you all love it as much as I do~ ♥ 
> 
> MANY blessings upon MajaLi for cheerleading and sharing my Sidlink obsession! \o/ Many apologies to Prince Sidon for making him a Pokémon; I promise I'm writing another Sidlink fic where he gets to be himself, this just got finished first. ^__^;;;

Link knows it’s going to be a bad landing well before he hits the ground. He’d fumbled for his pack as he felt the cliff edge give way under his boots, but only succeeded in knocking it several feet away where it pinballed its own way down the rock face. No help there. 

The rocks are sharp, the dirt and gravel rough, and the bottom of the ravine a long, long way down. 

Link lands in a battered heap at the base of the cliff, the wind knocked from his lungs. There’s more than one stabbing pain when he tries to move — his ribs and his left ankle most of all. His wrists hurt from trying to catch himself, but neither feels broken. Strained, definitely. Sprained, possibly. There’s blood on his clothes, on his legs and arms from the scratches and cuts he’d acquired on the way down, and if his nose isn't broken he’ll count himself lucky, because it’s bleeding like it is. A cut on his forehead is bleeding a lot but hopefully isn’t serious. A glance around tells him his pack is a good thirty feet away, though at least it doesn’t seem to have been torn open on the way down. Still, getting to it is going to _hurt_ , and when he tries to sit up the world spins around him nauseatingly.

Link grits his teeth, preparing to force his way past the pain until he can reach his pack (if he can just reach his pack, it’ll all be okay, he’ll be fine if he can just _get there_ ), and that’s when he hears the roar. 

Past his pack, further down the ravine, a shape looms out of the shadows; a bladed, _angry_ face. The Haxorus roars again, it’s footfalls getting louder and faster and Link’s pack is too far away, but not so far away that he can’t clearly see the multicolored balls still neatly arranged in their clips, hopelessly out of reach. He grabs a rock to throw at the onrushing Pokémon, knowing it’s pointless and hoping that whatever Trainer wanders through here someday and finds his team will treat them well. Then, there’s a familiar pop and hiss, just barely audible, and _another_ roar — louder, closer — and _red_ , and Link breathes out a sigh of relief and drops the rock from shaky fingers, smiling despite everything. 

_Sidon._

~*~

Everyone in the Hyrule Region knows the story, of course. Or at least everyone who cares about the Hyrule League, which is basically everyone anyway. 

It goes like this:

Two twelve-year-olds, best friends and friendly rivals, had set off from Hateno Village on their Pokémon journeys, aiming to assemble a team and compete for the title of Hyrule Champion. That was all perfectly normal, of course; there were hundreds or thousands of stories that started off roughly the same way. What was less normal was that one of the two friends became the Hyrule Champion at the tender age of fourteen. The other — who, with his distinctive shiny Zora at his side, was credited with foiling a plot by Team Ganon to turn the Pokémon of Hyrule against their Trainers by use of a strange substance they called “Malice” — had won all his Gym badges, then never shown up for the championship tournament at all. 

When asked if she knew why, the newly-crowned Champion Zelda shrugged. 

“You’ll have to ask him,” she told the various League officials, the Gym Leaders, the reporters and the fans who had started following both of their exploits across the region. 

This turned out to be far easier said than done.

~*~

Link _likes_ the Wilds. His favorite part of the Gym Challenge had been camping out with his team, playing and training and gathering berries to make dishes that could loosely be described as “food.” So after everything settled and Team Ganon was done for good (and good riddance), it seemed like a good way to disappear for a while. The Wilds were huge and varied and it would take quite a lot of searching to find one rather small teenager who had both extensive knowledge of the area and a team of clever Pokémon who were all totally devoted to him. 

He didn’t really _mean_ to still be living out of his tent going on eight years later; he just… hadn’t found anything he liked better. At first he’d tried going home to Hateno Village, but there wasn’t much left for him there, and everyone treated him like he was _special_. And then the reporters came, and the fans, until Link packed up one night and disappeared out his window into the Wilds.

They still find him, though, sometimes. 

“Are you Link?” 

A young voice, but cocky; a bit rude. Probably still expecting that in a few months he’ll walk into Castle Stadium and walk out with Zelda’s title. (Fat chance.)

“No,” Link lies, tossing a fresh piece of charcoal from the cooking fire across the campsite to Epona, who whinnies happily and rolls around on the patch of scorched grass she’s claimed as her own. The twigs that catch in her mane burn off quickly, at least. He clicks his tongue at her disapprovingly but she ignores him, happy to act like an undignified Ponyta for the moment.

“I know you’re Link!” the voice says, with an edge of annoyance. “That’s Link’s shiny Zora!”

“Is it? What a coincidence,” Link deadpans. 

Sidon snorts in amusement, the movement of his heaving chest knocking Link forwards a bit, since Sidon is relaxing in the cool grass and Link is leaning against his side. He runs a hand over Sidon’s glimmering red scales — he’s never seen another Zora like Sidon; both his bright coloring and huge size seem to be unique to him. Which is inconvenient when Link just wants to avoid attention, of course, but he wouldn’t change a thing about Sidon even so.

“I’m here to battle you! I won’t lose!” the voice says, and Link finally turns his head to assess its owner. 

It’s a kid, as expected. Maybe thirteen or fourteen, wearing a League cap, t-shirt and sport shorts. Muddy sneakers too, which means he hasn’t been in the Wilds very long. (Has Link gotten that easy to find, or did the kid get lucky? Either way he makes a mental note to move his camp soon.) The kid’s already got a hand hovering over the Pokéballs clipped to his belt, and Link sighs and pulls himself to his (sensibly boot-clad) feet.

“Korok!” He calls out casually, just to get his attention, “Battle time.” 

The Bulbasaur who’s been his constant companion since Link received him from the Professor at the very beginning of his journey stops what he’s doing (chopping vegetables for their dinner, which will now be delayed) and pokes his head around the side of the tent, clearly eyeing the kid. 

“ _Bulba,_ ” he says scathingly, and Link would tell him to watch his language but honestly he agrees. 

Still, Korok trots over on his short legs, and Epona deigns to stop rolling around on the grass and join the rest of them. Link sees the kid glance at Korok dismissively (the biggest mistake the kid has made so far, even more than the sneakers), and assess Epona with slightly more attention. He’s still cocky, though, Link can see it. A bit of the chip comes off the kid’s shoulder as Para circles low overhead, her great wings blotting out the sun as she swoops to land in the clearing with surprising delicacy given that her head comes up to Link’s shoulder. The pile of metal on the ground nearby rouses itself sluggishly as Aegislash awakens from its nap and whirls up to hover on Link’s left-hand side, and Navi pops her head out of the tent to see what’s going on, adjusting her disguise as she scurries over to hide behind his ankles with an inquisitive, “Kyu?” 

The kid looks slightly nervous, now, and Link watches his face go pale and ashen as Link feels movement behind him. Sidon moves languidly, for all that Link knows he’s been itching for a battle recently, and rises to his full height, towering over Link, and even more so over the kid. 

_This is going to be fun,_ Link thinks to himself, feeling the pre-battle tension rise in his team; their delight at having a chance to show off their abilities.

(And it is.)

~*~

Sidon was Link’s third Pokémon. 

Korok, of course, was his first, and Link had been so happy with him that for a good long while he’d ignored everyone’s advice to catch as many Pokémon as he could, and enjoyed traveling and battling with his new friend and companion. His second Pokémon had been Para, found in the forest with torn feathers and a broken wing. She hadn’t been pleased to be caught, not at first. But a trip to the Pokémon Center in Kakariko Village had fixed her right up, and a few treats had helped soothe any lingering hurts, and they were friends soon enough.

And then came Sidon. 

Certain strong species of Pokémon were supposed to be confined to certain parts of the Hyrule Region. Which meant there was _not_ supposed to be a Lynel among the trees on Route 4 from Kakariko Village to Tarrey Town. But there was. For some reason Link hadn’t thought of the obvious -- recall Korok to his Pokéball and run for it. Of course not. Instead he’d picked the Bulbasaur up in his thin arms and done his best to dash away, scrambling through the undergrowth while Korok batted away branches with his Vine Whip, the Lynel roaring and crashing behind them, until Link had run out of ground and gone flying out over the edge of one of the great rivers that cut through the whole area. He’d skidded down the steep but thankfully rather soft bank, earning bloody scratches on his calves, and only barely had time to tuck himself further around Korok before they both went into the water with an almighty splash.

It wouldn’t have been so bad, really, if Link had ever learned how to swim. 

Korok was still young then, his vines not strong enough to anchor both of them against the current, though Link had nearly burst with pride at how hard his friend tried. But by that time Link’s lungs had been bursting, too, and when Korok managed to get his vines lashed securely around a low branch, Link let go. He didn’t have the breath to explain; to say _I’m sorry_ to his friend for abandoning him, or _thank you_ for his efforts to save them, or anything at all. He heard the panicked _“Bulbaaaaaa!”_ before his head went under the water again, but that was all. 

That is, until he found himself on a flat part of the riverbank, tears streaming from his eyes and nose running as he coughed up the water from his lungs and tried desperately to replace it with air.

“Korok?” He croaked once he was able to pick himself up, wiping the tears and snot and water from his face and hoping desperately to see his friend, though he had no idea how much further down the river he was. He peered upstream, but the river twisted enough that he couldn’t see very far, and what he could see he didn’t recognize. 

“Korok! Where are you?” He called again, feeling his voice get stronger, and then, like the best of miracles, he heard a crashing among the trees — much smaller than the Lynel’s trail of destruction — and the sound of rhythmic footfalls, small pumping legs, and “Bulba! Bulba _bulbaaaa_!” as Korok emerged and shot straight at Link’s chest like a Bullet Seed, nearly toppling them both back into the water and knocking the air right back out of Link’s lungs, though he couldn’t be upset about it. Korok wrapped him up in vines and licked his face (which was kind of gross and kind of adorable all at once), and Link hugged his friend close and checked him over for injuries, finding only a few small bruises and some places where his vines had been scraped trying to carry both their weights. 

That was when the water behind them rippled and splashed, pulling their attention away from each other and turning it toward the large form of a great red Zora emerging from the water, its claws and teeth bared. 

Link’s heart had sunk at the sight of it. It was _enormous_ and intimidating and Korok seemed so _small_ in comparison. But the Bulbasaur was determined and Link let him battle, prepared to recall him to his Pokéball and attempt to run. But, whether it was Korok’s determination or something else, the Zora’s attacks seemed to do little damage, and Korok’s Vine Whip brought it to its knees with startling speed. 

He almost didn’t think of it in time, but Link’s hand was already near his Pokéballs, and when the Zora seemed to be breathing heavily and moving slowly — and with an exaggerated limp, though Link couldn’t recall Korok’s vines hitting its legs at all — he threw the Pokéball and waited, breath catching, as the ball rolled and twitched. And then the *snap!* and the glowing ring, and _he actually caught it!_

“We did it!” Link exclaimed, picking Korok up and twirling him around until he made himself dizzy and had to sit down in the mud. Korok made pleased noises and sniffed the newly-occupied Pokéball a few times as Link secured it on his belt next to Para’s ball and the empty one that technically belonged to Korok. “He looked pretty hurt,” Link explained, scritching Korok’s head with his nails. “We should probably head back to the Pokémon Center for now.” 

It’s the most sensible thing to do, of course; Link has no idea what it’s like in a Pokéball, but if his new Zora can feel pain in there… It had seemed pretty battered, at the end. He turns and heads back to Kakariko Village, Korok trotting at his heels. 

(It’s at Kakariko Village that they get the first stares; the first, “Is that a _shiny Zora!?_ “ The first time Link ever said in reply, “This is Sidon,” and the first time Sidon bumped his shoulder, purring a pleased little, “ _Zorr…_ ” They have good memories of Kakariko Village.)

~*~

Now, he’s fallen down another cliff, and once again (as he’d realized, over the years, must have been the case) Sidon is here to save him.

He doesn’t even have to watch; Sidon’s strength and speed are almost terrifying at times. The Legendary Dragons might be a match for him (Farosh in particular, for obvious reasons), but not much else in the Wilds stands a chance. The Haxorus goes down quickly, and Sidon scoops both Link and his pack up and climbs out of the ravine with them. 

Link is deposited in the grass near a rocky outcropping, Sidon crouching over him protectively. He strokes his least-hurt palm along Sidon’s crest and down the dorsal line of his tail as he gets comfortable and takes better stock of his injuries. His head hurts but it doesn’t feel serious, and he’s got cuts and scrapes and bruises everywhere but nothing that will kill him. His ribs don’t feel as bad as he’d initially thought, but his ankle is a persistent dull ache. He’ll have to stay off it as much as he can for a while. 

Sidon squats near his feet, studying his shins as if they’re somehow fascinating, and Link doesn’t have much time to ponder why before Sidon’s face is against his legs, and Sidon’s tongue is lapping at the scrapes, tasting the blood on his skin.

“I’m okay,” Link assures him, but Sidon doesn’t stop his licking and Link doesn’t really mind. Sidon’s tongue is weirdly pleasant; sandpapery like a Meowth’s, and it soothes the ache of the cuts as well as cleaning the dried blood from his skin. It tickles a bit, as he progresses up to the deeper scrapes on Link’s knees.

He probably should be pushing Sidon off, getting the antiseptic spray out of his pack and cleaning himself up properly. Instead, Link reaches out his hands and strokes his fingertips over Sidon’s headfins, aiming for the places that make him rumble in that pleased way. He gets the reward he’s looking for, and more. When Sidon deems his knees sufficiently clean, he reaches up and takes Link’s hands by the wrists, his clawed fingers easily engulfing Link’s smaller ones, but ever so gently.

Sidon’s tongue on his palm is… _oh_. 

A shiver runs through Link at the feel of it, the sandpaper rasp against the tender edges of his flayed skin sending shockwaves of _painpleasure_ to his brain and lighting him up in brand new ways. Everything about Sidon is big, his tongue included. It covers most of Link’s palm in one swipe, and then Sidon curls it around Link’s fingers, licking into the webbed spaces between the digits. That sensation is also new, and a whorl of strange, swooping heat settles in Link’s belly. 

Sidon’s eyes are almost completely black, with just the faintest ring of gold showing around his pupils. The blood-reddened tip of his cock is poking out of the slit at his groin, dark and wet and dangerous. Link sucks in a breath, reflexively arching his hips upward toward Sidon as the tingling wave of arousal crashes over him. He’s hard so fast it makes him lightheaded for a moment, the lightweight material of his shorts tented obscenely. Sidon inhales in a way that makes it obvious that he can smell it, can smell how turned-on he is, smell the precome already leaking from his tip. _Oh, goddesses._

Sidon shifts, getting even closer as his tongue explores the scrapes on Link’s forearms and elbows, until he finally releases Link’s wrists and plants his claws in the earth on either side of Link’s body and his tongue swipes over the jagged cut near Link’s temple. He cleans the whole area with tender licks while Link trembles, caged in by Sidon’s arms and the bulk of his muscular torso above him. Sidon’s cock hangs down between them, fully unsheathed now, the sticky-wet tip of it sometimes brushing against Link’s belly and rucking his shirt up, leaving glistening trails on his skin. It’s so _big_ , it makes Link’s mouth go dry; could that even _fit_ —?

His temple is clean, and Sidon moves his attention to Link’s bloodied nose and the rusty trail leading down from his nostrils all the way to his throat. Link squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable pain, but the first touch of his tongue is so gentle that Link barely feels it. When he opens his eyes again, Sidon’s face is _right there_ , those dark eyes focused on him. Sidon’s tongue glides over Link’s lips, and he can’t help the way his mouth opens up. He catches Sidon’s tongue with his own, tasting the copper of his blood on it. 

There’s a moment of hesitation before Sidon rumbles pleasantly and then invades Link’s mouth, licking over his teeth and plunging his tongue so far into Link’s throat that he nearly chokes on it. Sidon’s sharp teeth cut into Link’s lips, spilling out a fresh stream of blood, and Sidon nearly flinches away before Link catches him by his headfins and says, “It’s okay, it’s okay, good boy, you didn’t hurt me,” until Sidon relaxes again and licks the new blood away in another not-quite-kiss. The reminder of those razor edges adds to the sense of danger when Sidon proceeds to lick his way down Link’s chin to the soft underside of his jaw and the column of his throat. Link moans aloud when Sidon’s tongue caresses particularly sensitive places, his cock twitching in his shorts. It’s good, it’s so _good_ , especially when Sidon arches a bit more and the heavy weight of his cock catches against Link’s. 

Finally, all the blood is gone from his skin. 

Link blinks up at him when Sidon pulls away, arousal making him feel stupid and slow. He wants— 

Sidon doesn’t move back, just stays arched over him, that big cock dripping slick onto the skin of Link’s belly. His tailfin lashes from side to side, and he makes an inquisitive noise that Link knows very well; he’s waiting for _instructions_ , he’s being _good_ and waiting for Link to give him his treat, oh fuck, oh _fuck_ , Link _is_ his treat. He shouldn’t, he _shouldn’t_ , it’s a fit of insanity, but in a flurry of movement Link shoves his shorts down off his hips to mid-thigh, then wraps his arms around Sidon’s neck and buries his face in the Pokémon’s chest. 

“Good boy,” he says, voice catching on the familiar words, “Okay.”

~*~

Cleaning Sidon’s come off his favorite shirt is an exercise in frustration. He spends ages at it, scrubbing and scrubbing, and swears to himself that next time he’s going to be naked so he doesn’t have to deal with this again. 

He nearly drops his shirt in the river, when he realizes the meaning of his own words. It might have been enough to make him stop it there and then, if Sidon hadn’t hauled himself out of the water, alert to Link’s labored breaths and sudden distress. He reassures Sidon with gentle strokes along his crest, and doesn’t let himself think about it. He doesn’t let himself think about it even as he allows Sidon to pull him into the water and fuck his huge cock into the space between Link’s thighs until the soft skin there is dark pink and tender. 

~*~

Zelda visits only occasionally. 

That’s not because she doesn’t know where to find him. She’s always had a way of being able to find Link, no matter how well he’s hidden himself away, and actually she’s rather proud of that. But her duties as the Hyrule Champion take precedence over social visits, and there seem to be more of those duties every time she turns around. Not that she objects, really; she loves being Champion. But it would be a lot easier if she could convince Link to take on a Gym. The Lurelin Gym has been vacant for _years_ now. Maybe she’ll be able to wear him down eventually. 

“Blaaaaaa!” Her Blastoise announces their presence, and is greeted with an excited, “Bul-baaaa!” as Link’s Korok comes rushing through the long grass at them. Zelda steps out of the way as Korok hurtles himself at top-speed into Blastoise’s chest, gleefully knocking the much larger Pokémon backwards into the grass. She rolls her eyes and goes in search of Link as their oldest Pokémon companions play together. 

“Zelda, hey! We weren’t expecting you,” Link greets her with a hug, as usual, and offers her a seat (such as it is, being actually a flat-ish rock he’s built his campfire near). 

“I thought I’d drop in,” she shrugs. A set of perky Pikachu ears appear near her knees, and she reaches down to give Navi’s head (or at least, Navi’s disguise’s head) a comforting pat, pulling a couple of treats out of a pouch for the Mimikyu.

“If I didn’t, I bet you would forget that the championship tournament is next week. You should come.”

“So you can try to convince me to take on the Lurelin Gym. Again.” Link rolls his eyes at her, and it occurs to Zelda that they may really be too similar, at times. 

“So you can watch me kick all their asses,” she corrects, and gives Link just enough time to start to look apologetic before adding, “And to try to convince you to take on the Lurelin Gym again. I’ll wear you down one of these days!”

Link snorts. “When Digletts learn Fly, maybe.”

“So you say,” Zelda allows. “Oh, I brought some things for you.”

And from there, the visit goes as their visits usually do. A casual battle (Link wins this time, but it’s always close between them), a shared pot of curry cooked over the campfire, some time spent properly greeting and spoiling the other’s team with toys and treats, and then it’s time for Zelda to head back to Castle Stadium. 

“At least come for the finals,” Zelda asks, and Link gives in. 

“All right, all right, I’ll see you then,” he promises, and that’s good enough. He’s never broken a promise to her, after all. 

“Good,” she says, then, after considering something that had been at the back of her mind since their greeting hug, “And Link? I’m glad you’ve finally decided to bathe regularly.”

Her friend’s face turns as bright red as Sidon’s scales, and even said Pokémon seems amused as Link splutters. 

(Zelda laughs about it for half the trip back to Castle Town.)

**Author's Note:**

> :D?
> 
> (I actually have more worldbuilding and stories I have thought of in this universe so if y'all actually want more of this please lmk~ ♥)


End file.
